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Day 293/2546
Trojan stepped out of the entrance to the Majestic Complex, as it was now known, and took in a lung full of air. He couldn’t remember the last time he had breathed natural air, and Romanov’s return was a good excuse to come up and remind himself how good it smelled. Naturally it was raining, but he didn’t mind. The overhang kept him dry, and the rain made the moist air smell clean, something the air purifiers in the complex still couldn’t do.
He watched the aircar gently touch down and Romanov get out. With the road and the makeshift spaceport gone in order to help camouflage the existence and location of the Complex, the movement of supplies and personnel now had to be done by direct air transport to the Complex entrance.
Romanov smiled as he saluted, and Trojan did the same. They had already spoken briefly by radio when 1st Fleet was approaching Hadley, but Trojan felt a face to face meeting was not only necessary but deserved. He extended his hand, and Romanov shook it.
“Welcome home, Ivan. I reviewed the battle after we talked. You handled it beautifully. Textbook example of maximizing numerical and technological advantages.”
“Thank you, Sir, but I can’t help feeling sorry for those poor buggers. They didn’t stand a chance, and they had to have figured that out before they died.”
Trojan let his smile evaporate as he nodded. “A lot of good people are going to die before this damned war is over. Just remember, we’ll minimize how many die if we stay on the path to our ultimate goal.” When it was clear that Romanov would not respond to that, Trojan smiled again. “Let’s go down to my office and discuss a few things over some vodka. I presume you brought some more with you to replenish our dwindling stock?”
“Sure did, General. It’ll arrive here soon.”
As the two men entered the tunnel and got on the escalator, Trojan turned to Romanov. “Who’s idea was it to detach four ships to remain on defensive patrol?”
“Mine, Sir.”
“Hm. I doubt if it was necessary, but I’m sure it made the politicians feel safer. Who’s in command of that task force?”
Romanov grimaced. Trojan wasn’t going to like the answer. “Stevens.”
Trojan shook his head. “Why am I not surprised? On the other hand, the Old Man can keep a close eye on Stevens if the Union should attack again, so I suppose it does make sense from the Old Man’s point of view.”
“Has Majestic expressed an opinion yet on the Old Man’s orders to attack Sparta?”
Trojan waited for the two of them to step off the escalator before replying. “As a matter of fact, it has. It’s only giving a 61.8% probability that the attack was a sincere attempt to overpower 1st Fleet and a surprisingly high 34.6% probability that the attack was a deliberate sacrifice to entice us to do exactly what the Old Man wants us to do. The remaining probability covers all other possibilities. What do you think of that?”
“I’m shocked that the machine would give that high a probability to the idea that the Union would deliberately sacrifice 16 ship crews. Could they really be that cold-blooded?”
Trojan shrugged. “They might have asked for volunteers. Do we even know for sure that there WERE crews on those ships?”
Romanov thought that over carefully before answering. “Actually, we don’t know that for sure. The wreckage was moving too fast and tumbling too fast to be able to get our people aboard.”
“How convenient for the SSU,” said Trojan. They said nothing more until both were comfortably seated in Trojan’s spacious office with drinks in their hands.
“Makassar got hit again,” said Trojan. “From the timing, it’s clear that the Union fleet stopped there on their way to Earth. Whoever commanded that fleet had enough smarts to limit the bombardment to his five armored ships. The lasersats worked perfectly, but we don’t know how much damage, if any, they inflicted on those ships. Based on what those ships did at Earth, I’d have to say not very much.”
“How much damage did Makassar suffer?” asked Romanov after taking a sip of his vodka.
“We’re just about back to square one in terms of infrastructure. Casualties were light, all things considered.”
“Just about what Majestic expected. Chenko’s not going to like it.”
Trojan smiled. “No, I expect he won’t, but it’s too late now for him to try to relieve me of command. The troops here will back me if there’s a confrontation. Let’s change the subject. I’ve decided that we’ll go ahead with the attack on Sparta.”
After a short pause, Romanov said, “They’re probably going to be ready for us, you know. I hope you’re not going to order us to fight to the death no matter what.”
“Oh, they’ll be ready for us alright. That I’m sure of. And no, I’m not going to expect you and your people to commit suicide. Here’s what I want you to do instead.”
Day 343/2546
The Flag Bridge on board Conqueror was dead quiet as 1st Fleet emerged from hyper-space. The 3-D main tactical display quickly stabilized with what new data was available, which right now was limited to astrogational data only. 1st Fleet was using passive sensors, and so far there were no signs of any ships or missile boats in orbit around Sparta. Romanov frowned. If Sparta was actively scanning its surrounding space with microwave radar energy, his ships should have detected it by now, but so far nothing. The lack of radar beams meant that his ships wouldn’t be able to detect reflected microwave energy from missile boats already in orbit around the planet, and that worried him. 1st Fleet was still 300,000 kilometers further out beyond the hyper-zone boundary, which itself was almost 5.4 million kilometers from the planet. Therefore the chances of having missile boats close to his ships right now was very small, but the lack of definitive information made him nervous. The Spartans were playing it carefully, and that meant he had to as well. When three minutes had passed since their arrival and still no sign of any ships or boats or even that the Spartans were aware of their presence, Romanov decided to make his opening move.
“Romanov to Fleet. Begin 360 degree active scanning.”
The display showed a rapidly expanding shell of radar energy around the green icon representing 1st Fleet. The effective range of ship-borne radar was roughly 1.5 million kilometers or five light seconds. That was due to the fact that radar arrays that were more powerful were also too large to be able structurally to withstand the kinds of acceleration that a warship could generate. Prior to the war, it hadn’t been considered a problem. Romanov made a mental note to himself to recommend that the R&D boys try to come up with a solution for it now. When enough time had passed for the shell of radar energy to reach the effective limit and for reflected energy to return, it became apparent that there were no ships or missile boats within a radius of 1.5 million kilometers. His relief quickly turned into annoyance that he still didn’t know how strong the planet’s mobile defenses were. Damn the Spartans for fighting in an unconventional manner! He decided to wait a bit longer to see if there was any response by the Spartans.
Spartan Space Force HQ:
Janicot heard the door to his makeshift bedroom open. Before the visitor could say anything, he said, “Are they here?”
“Yes, Sir. Twenty-four ships at approximately 5.7 megaklicks range. Velocity is less than 100 kps, but we’re still narrowing that down as we get more data from the optical bearings of the reflected sunlight.”
“Okay. Tell Ops that I’ll be there shortly. Alert the ground crews, but nobody lifts off until I say so, got it?”
“Got it, Sir.” The officer left, and the room plunged back into darkness, but Janicot was wide awake now. The FEDs had taken the bait, just as P2 had predicted. He quickly got up, turned the light on, and made sure his rumpled uniform was presentable. Once this battle was over, he could sleep in his own night clothes in his own bed again instead of using this temporary room at HQ. Satisfied that he wouldn’t embarrass himself with his appearance, he left the room and was soon in the large Operations Center. The Duty Officer saw him enter and approached him.
“No change so far, Admiral. We’re updating Commodore Palmgren with the enemy’s position. The Secretary For Defense and the Chancellor have been notified and are headed for the Emergency Command Post. P2 is standing by to assume tactical command.”
Janicot thanked him and put on the headset the officer had offered him. He could use that to communicate with all ground and orbiting forces instantly if necessary.
“CSO to Task Force Leader,” said Janicot in what he hoped was a calm voice.
“Task Force Leader here, Admiral. All boats are ready to lift off,” said Drake.
“Very good. Stand by, Drake. When I turn control over to P2, your boats will respond instantly to any and all text message commands, understood?”
“Loud and clear, Admiral. It’s actually nice to be back in a boat again, except I’d forgotten how cramped these things are.”
Janicot laughed. “I’m sure that being in command of 30 boats doesn’t hurt either, eh Commodore?”
“No, Sir, it certainly doesn’t, even if it’s only a temporary promotion.”
Janicot was tempted to tell Drake that if they won the battle and Drake didn’t screw up, he just might make the temporary field promotion permanent but then decided now was not the time to convey that information.
“Yes, well...good luck and good hunting, Drake.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Janicot looked over at the Duty Officer. “How much longer before Palmgren gets the targeting data?”
The Duty Officer checked the data tablet in his hand. “Another 55 seconds, Admiral.”
Janicot nodded and focused his attention on the main display. The FED fleet, now designated as Sierra1, was still coasting at low speed. It wasn’t maneuvering, and as far as they could tell it hadn’t opened fire yet. Until it did start to do either one, there was no point in handing tactical command of the battle to P2. Janicot had to wait for the FED Commander to commit his forces in some way. In the meantime, Drake had 20 missile boats on the ground, ready to lift off at a moment’s notice, and 10 more boats already in orbit. Janicot heard the main display ping to announce a status change. The red icon with the number 24 inside it was now showing 20/4. He quickly checked the sidebar data. P2 had analyzed the formation and calculated a high probability that four of the ships were transports.
“Drake, is it possible that four of the ships in orbit around Earth were freighters and not warships?”
“No, Sir. The relayed data we received clearly showed that all 24 FED ships fired missiles. If P2 is right, then the FEDS have left four warships behind. That means no clean sweep even if we take out all these bogeys.”
“Damn,” said Janicot in a low voice. P2 was wrong about the FEDs committing their entire fleet, but the implications for the short term would have to wait until this battle was over. “D.O.,” The Duty Officer turned to look at Janicot in response to his call. “I want you to make sure that Commodore Palmgren gets the updated analysis of the FED fleet composition.”
The officer checked and nodded. “That new evaluation is already on its way now, Admiral.”
Janicot waved his acknowledgement and looked at the display again. Sierra1 still wasn’t maneuvering or firing, but it was actively scanning now.
“Can they detect our orbiting boats?” Janicot asked the Duty Officer.
“No, Sir, not unless their radar arrays are a lot more sensitive than we think.”
Okay, FED Commander, what are you going to do now?
1st Fleet Flagship:
Romanov paced back and forth in front of the main display on the Flag Bridge and grew more frustrated as he did so. Five minutes had passed since 1st Fleet’s arrival, and there was still no sign at all that the Spartans were even aware of their presence. There was no point in even considering firing missiles at the planet from this distance, because the lack of radar coverage meant that they wouldn’t know if the missiles hit their target or had been intercepted. Besides which, 1st Fleet’s mission was to conquer Sparta, not destroy it. That’s what the four freighters and the 50,000 infantry and 500 tanks they were carrying were for. He kept reviewing his limited options and kept coming back to the same conclusion. Either take 1st Fleet’s warships down into Sparta’s hyper-zone until they were close enough to the planet to detect any orbiting ships or boats OR abort the mission and jump back to Hadley. That last option wasn’t really an option at all. If he ordered 1st Fleet to run home without testing Sparta’s defenses, Trojan would have every right to have him court-martialled for cowardice in the face of the enemy. The Spartans weren’t leaving him with any real choice. He stopped pacing and walked over to the Astrogation Station, where the Astrogator quickly made the necessary calculations based on Romanov’s quick explanation of what he wanted. With the data calculated and disseminated to all 24 ships, Romanov switched on the fleet-wide com channel again.
“Romanov to all ships. Your onboard systems have been updated with the necessary astrogational data for our next move. I’m detaching our troop transports. They’ll remain at their current altitude and velocity. The rest of 1st Fleet will approach the planet in a descending spiral in such a way that we’ll be able to intercept any attempt by Spartan forces to fire on the transports. Once we get within radar range of the planet, we’ll then know what kind of defenses we’re facing, and I’ll determine the appropriate steps to take. In the meantime, we’ll continue active scanning in all directions. Once we’ve suppressed Spartan defenses, we’ll bring the transports down for the final phase of the operation. That’s all for now. Romanov out.” Romanov reached down to touch the virtual button that would tell all 20 warship auto-pilots to begin their descent while remaining in formation.
Spartan Space Force HQ:
Janicot smiled with satisfaction when the display pinged to call attention to a status change. Sierra1 was breaking up into two groups. The smaller group of what appeared to be four ships, which was now designated as Sierra2, remained in the same orbit as before. The 20 ships of Sierra1 were now maneuvering toward the planet. It took almost a minute for the optical data to reveal the enemy plan. Sierra1 would spiral down while keeping itself between the planet and Sierra2. The projected flight path showed that it would take almost five hours before Sierra1 was close enough for its radars to detect Drake’s 10 orbiting missile boats. It was time to get their Phase II Oracle involved in this battle.
Janicot walked quickly over to the console that contained the direct link to the Phase II Oracle device. Leaning over the technician sitting there, he touched the screen which showed P2’s status with regards to Sparta’s defenses. The red ‘Command link on Standby’ light switched to the green ‘Command link Activated’ light. In order to make sure that everyone in the Ops Center knew what he had just done, Janicot said in a loud voice, “P2 now has tactical control of all Spartan defenses!”
MB001 on the ground:
Drake’s Command Station screen #1 updated itself to show that the auto-pilot was receiving maneuvering instructions from P2. At the same time, a text message scrolled across the bottom of the main display.
ALL MISSILE BOATS ON ALERT WILL LIFT OFF TO RENDEZVOUS WITH ORBITING MISSILE BOATS. STAND BY FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.
Before Drake could say anything, the auto-pilot engaged and MB001, along with the other 19 boats that were on standby alert, left the ground at a moderate 2.5Gs acceleration. Drake sighed as he realized that for the rest of the battle he and his crew were essentially observers. P2 had total control over his boats’ maneuvering and fire control. And speaking of fire control, screen #2 showed that his boat’s missile tubes were being loaded with KE warhead missiles. Drake wondered if P2 would wait until his boats had broken past Sparta’s atmosphere before firing.
1st Fleet Flagship:
Romanov checked the elapsed time. Twenty-one minutes since emergence from hyper-space and the main body of 1st Fleet had just crossed into Sparta’s hyper-zone. Because of the shallow angle of their descent, it wouldn’t take much to veer up and get back out beyond the zone boundary if they needed to at this point. Even when they were deeper in the zone, their descent vector would still have a lot of sideways movement, so pulling up would be easier than if the Fleet had headed straight down. Still no overt signs that the Spartans had detected them, but Romanov was sure that they had, probably via optical detection of reflected sunlight. That was one of the disadvantages of having a perfectly spherical hull. Regardless of where the local star was in relation to the ship, there was always some part of the hull that reflected sunlight at just the right angle to be detected by just about anyone, as long as they were looking in the right direction with the right equipment.
“Stay on your toes, everyone,” said Romanov. He was certain that when something did happen, he wasn’t going to like it. And to make matters worse, he had an itch that he couldn’t scratch because of the pressure suit he was now wearing.
Spartan Space Force HQ:
Janicot realized that he was pacing back and forth in front of the huge display, and he changed course for the back of the room where his pacing wouldn’t be a distraction to the men and women manning their Ops Center consoles. Why did space battles have to take so damned long anyway? It was now almost two hours since Sierra1 had started its descent. It was almost halfway down to the planet, in that awkward middle ground where its radar couldn’t see low Sparta orbit or the four transports of Sierra2, although Janicot was certain that both groups of ships were in contact via tight-beam com lasers.
“DRAKE’S BOATS HAVE FIRED!”
Janicot didn’t see who had spoken and didn’t care. The display was now showing a single swarm of 240 missiles leaving Drake’s Task Force and accelerating rapidly on a bearing that would intersect Sierra1’s path by the time the FED ships got there, although interception was still 21.4 minutes away. The main display pinged for attention. A new green icon appeared so close to Sierra2’s red icon that they overlapped. Janicot nodded and smiled with a vicious satisfaction. Palmgren’s Task Force of five freighters had just emerged from hyper-space within 100 kilometers of Sierra2’s troop transports. Those five freighters were each carrying five missile boats attached to the freighter hull externally. The boats would detach from the freighters, which would then initiate another micro-jump just about...now. The green icon with the number 5 in it changed to the number 25. Almost immediately, the display pinged again and zoomed in to show what was now happening out beyond the zone boundary. Palmgren’s 25 boats had just fired 200 missiles at the four FED targets. Janicot knew that at that range, the missiles would intercept their targets in less than three seconds. Even if the transports had laser missile defense batteries, they wouldn’t be able to burn them all that quickly, nor was it likely that the Bridge personnel on those transports could react fast enough to micro-jump away.
He watched in fascination as Sierra2’s red icon began flashing and then almost immediately broke up and dissolved. Four transports, almost certainly filled with troops and tanks, had just been shot to pieces. Janicot made a concerted effort NOT to think about the thousands of troops and crew who had just been killed. The battle was not over. Sparta itself was safe from invasion, but who knew what contingency orders the FED Commander had in case landing troops was no longer an option. Sierra1 had to be killed too and not just to safeguard Sparta’s civilians. As long as that fleet remained intact, Sparta’s whole strategy to even the playing field again was in jeopardy.
Fifteen seconds after the first missile launch, Palmgren’s Task Force fired again, this time at Sierra1, or rather at where it was expected to be by the time the missiles got there. Janicot knew that unlike Drake’s missile volley, this new wave was not armed with kinetic energy warheads but were armed instead with fission warheads. They had been launched at just the right time so that Palmgren’s wave would arrive on target within seconds after Drake’s wave, assuming that the FED Commander reacted as expected to the loss of communications with his transports.
1st Fleet Flagship:
Romanov jerked with surprise when a panicked voice over the troop transport com channel yelled out. “We’re under missile f—“ The cut-off voice was replaced with static.
As he turned to look at the Communications Station, the technician on duty returned his gaze and said, “We’ve lost all voice and data transmission from the transports, Sir.”
Romanov pounded his chair’s armrest in frustration. How had the Spartans managed to get that close to the transports without being detected? To the best of his knowledge, missile boats didn’t have jump drives. The how didn’t matter right now. Maybe he’d have time to figure it out later. Landing troops was no longer possible, and therefore his mission was no longer possible. That also meant that there was no longer any reason to stay in this star system.
“Romanov to all ships. I’m aborting the mission. We’re getting out of here. Romanov out.” Switching channels to the Helm Station on the Bridge, he said, “Helm, program a fleet-wide change of course. I want us out past the zone boundary as soon as possible. When everyone’s ready, go ahead and execute.” In less than five seconds, 1st Fleet was accelerating hard for the hyper-zone boundary, and its downward sloping trajectory was beginning to curve up sharply. Romanov knew that it would take another two hours more or less to claw their way back out of the zone, but there was nothing he could do about that. Whatever the Spartans were sending his way, they had him where they wanted him.
Spartan Space Force HQ:
“They’re veering off!” yelled the Duty Officer.
Janicot laughed. “They’re trying to, but they’re in too deep now.” Just as he finished speaking, the display showed a new icon representing Drake’s second wave of 240 missiles. Palmgren’s boats would be firing again soon too, but this time they’d be firing KE warheads instead of fission ones. Janicot wished for the Nth time that they had more of those things, but production of Pu-239 was still ramping up. He was pleased to see that data on Sierra1’s course change had been relayed to both Task Forces as confirmed by the fact that both of the first waves’ trajectories were adjusting to compensate for the enemy’s maneuvers. Even so, it would still take almost 16 minutes for Palmgren’s first wave to intercept the enemy fleet and a further 6 minutes for Drake’s first wave to catch up to the fleeing ships. It would have been nice to have both waves reach their targets at the same time, but that was far too easy for the enemy to avoid by simply moving towards one wave while at the same time moving away from the other. P2 knew that, which was why Palmgren’s first wave had atomic warheads while Drake’s missiles didn’t. If any of Palmgren’s missiles penetrated the FED missile defense, the nature of their warheads would become abundantly clear. That would encourage the FED ships to move closer together so that their overlapping fields of anti-missile laser fire had a better chance of stopping additional missile waves. When follow-on waves of missiles arrived, the FEDs would assume that they too had atomic warheads and would be unlikely to engage in evasive maneuvers that would risk collisions. KE warheads would be just as deadly, even if their guidance systems were destroyed by laser fire, as long as the FED ships maintained their same vectors.
1st Fleet Flagship:
The tension on the Flag Bridge was palpable. Romanov realized that he was sweating profusely, and it wasn’t just because he was wearing the pressure suit. Radar was showing multiple waves of missiles coming from both above and below now. 1st Fleet would be running a deadly gauntlet, and he was certain that not all of his ships would make it back. How many was a question that he didn’t want to try to answer. There were less than 30 seconds until the first wave from above crossed the fleet’s path. Anti-missile lasers were already firing, but accuracy was low at this range. As far as they could tell, each of his 20 ships was being targeted by 10 enemy missiles. Romanov couldn’t believe his luck. Under the circumstances, that was an incredibly stupid approach. It would have been far better from the enemy’s point of view to go after two or three ships with all 200 missiles in order to overwhelm their defenses.
“They’re retargeting!” yelled the Tactical Officer.
Romanov didn’t even have time to curse the enemy before all the enemy missiles of the first wave re-oriented themselves on just two ships. The sudden last minute change of course confused the laser battery targeting computers, which held their fire for the crucial seconds the missiles needed. Each ship was hit by at least half a dozen warheads, but one would have been enough because the ships weren’t armored. Romanov heard someone cry out in anguish as two of his ships were vaporized into clouds of superhot radioactive gases.
Romanov’s rage at the loss of two ships and their crews was mitigated to a tiny extent by his grudging admiration for his enemy’s cunning, the sneaky bastards! Not only had the last second change in targeting strategy confused his ships’ lasers, it was also now confusing him as to what to do about the next wave of fast approaching missiles. Would the Spartans try the same trick again, and what, if anything, could he do about it? He had to think fast and make a decision.
“Romanov to Fleet. Adjust defense laser targeting to stay locked on to incoming missiles regardless of whether they shift to other targets!” He checked the sidebar data. The next wave from above was 13 seconds away and appeared to also be allocated more or less evenly among all his ships. He was certain the Spartans would try the same maneuver again and was surprised when they didn’t. The last five seconds seemed to fly by. He had just enough time to become aware that the data was saying that 97% of second wave missiles had been hit by laser fire when he felt his flagship shudder from what had to be kinetic energy impacts.
It only took him half a second to understand what had happened. Even a direct hit by a defense laser would not vaporize all of the meter-long tungsten rod that a kinetic energy warhead contained, and what was left of that rod could still cause damage if it hit the ship with enough velocity. His flagship was damaged but could still maneuver and still had seven out of ten operational missile tubes. He checked the status of his other 17 ships. Two were not damaged at all, one had lost all its missile tubes, and the rest were somewhere in between. The waves from above were hitting the tops of his ships where the missile tubes were located. That meant that the Fleet’s ability to maneuver and accelerate was not impaired, but that would change when the ships took damage from the missile waves coming from below, which would hit the bottom half of the ships, where the engines were located. If he didn’t do something, and damn quick, his Fleet would be gradually pounded into so much scrap metal.
“Get me a direct line to the Tac Officer!” yelled Romanov. When the officer came on line, Romanov quickly told him what he wanted the officer to do. As soon as that was done, he switched his com channel back to Fleet-wide.
“Romanov to Fleet! You’ll be getting firing data shortly. Execute those instructions as soon as possible. We need to cut down those incoming waves. Stay in formation and keep your fingers crossed. Romanov out.” With that out of the way, there was nothing left for him to do but wait.
His flagship was the first to fire. Seven missiles with Mark 1 atomic warheads left their tubes only seconds before the arrival of the third wave from above. It was too late to do anything about that third wave, but his counter-move could try to do something about wave four from above and wave one from below, which was now less than a minute from impact.
When wave three hit the flagship, the resulting shudder was greater than the previous impact. Romanov immediately understood why. More KE warheads had gotten through the laser defenses because his ship had lost some of that capability too, and some of those hits were from tungsten rods that had gotten through undamaged. His flagship was now down to just one operational missile tube and half of its laser turrets. Casualties were mounting too. He estimated that one more wave would knock out the main tactical display, and then he’d be blind. The rest of his fleet had also suffered more damage but in total still had 21 operational missile tubes which were even now firing Mark 1 missiles as instructed.
Spartan Space Force HQ:
They’re firing at us,” said the Duty Officer in a surprisingly calm voice given what his declaration implied. Janicot’s heart skipped a beat as he contemplated a missile attack on Spartan population centers. If they’re targeting our cities, those have to be nukes! He relaxed when he saw the number of missiles heading downward.
“Drake’s boats can handle five missiles with AMMs,” said Janicot. When the wave of five missiles began to lose cohesion as two missiles fell behind, Janicot wondered what the FED Commander was up to. Drake’s first wave of missiles was now 34 seconds away from impact, and the icons representing both groups of missiles seemed to overlap on the large display. Janicot knew that they weren’t close enough to risk collision, and it just seemed to be close because of the scale of the display image. The first three FED missiles passed Drake’s wave, but when the last two reached their closest point relative to Drake’s missiles, their fission warheads detonated, with the resulting tsunami of electro-magnetic energy temporarily overwhelming the sensors used by the Ops Center.
The image cleared just in time for Janicot to watch as two more FED missiles did the same thing to Palmgren’s next missile wave. That cunning bastard is using nukes in an anti-missile role! Those five missiles heading in our direction are probably intended to attrit Drake’s follow-on waves too. The question is does he have enough of those warheads to gut the rest of our missile barrages?
1st Fleet, Trafalgar:
Remington winced at she felt the ship shudder with the impact of another kinetic energy warhead.
“We’ve lost another engine!” yelled the Engineering Officer.
That meant they were down to only three operational engine thrusters, and the ship’s acceleration was down by 66% of normal. At least Trafalgar could still keep up with the flagship and the other two ships that could still accelerate. All four of them had suffered some damage to their engines, but Romanov’s gamble to vaporize incoming missiles with Mark 1s had paid off. As far as she could tell from the badly degraded optical and radar sensors, there were no more incoming waves of missiles. All of Sparta’s missile boats appeared to have shot themselves dry. Remington scanned her Auxiliary Command Station and nodded in relief that the jump drive was still operational as well. 1st Fleet, or what was left of it that could still maneuver, was only about 11 minutes away from crossing the hyper-zone boundary and being able to micro-jump away.
With the loss of contact to the Bridge, Remington had assumed Command as the ship’s Executive Officer. It was for exactly situations like this that the XO was required to monitor Bridge functions from Engineering during a battle. She had sent a runner to the Bridge to determine the situation there, but there was no word yet. The fact that no electronic commands were coming from any of the Bridge stations was a bad sign. One of the incoming KE warheads must have penetrated deep enough, at just the right angle, to hit the Bridge. The resulting jet of super-hot vaporized metal would have killed everyone instantly. She knew that there had been others killed and injured too, but didn’t know exactly how many or where. Determining that would have to wait until the ship jumped away. For now, she had to remain at her station here, even though Trafalgar could no longer fire missiles, had zero operational lasers, was almost blind and was barely able to maneuver.
“Romanov to Trafalgar. What’s your status?” Remington jumped at the unexpected sound of the Fleet Commander’s voice. The datalink between Trafalgar and the flagship must be down, otherwise Romanov would know what Trafalgar’s status was, or perhaps he just wanted to reassure her commander with a personal voice contact.
“This is XO Remington, Sir. I’m conning the ship from Engineering. I’ve lost contact with the Bridge. We still have one third maneuverability but limited sensor data. Jump drive is still online. Number of casualties is unknown. We can make it across the boundary if we don’t get hit again, Sir.”
“Understood, Commander. Our radar is still functioning, and you’ll be happy to know that we don’t see any more incoming missiles. As soon as we cross the boundary, we’ll micro-jump away and then line up for a jump back to Hadley. If for whatever reason you and I lose contact, proceed back to Hadley as best you can. Any questions?”
“No question, Admiral.”
“Very good, Commander. Romanov out.”
